Once Upon a Crime
by Gaia Faye
Summary: Giselle, a Gotham tourist visiting from New York City, spends the day with a nice, young man with a song in his heart and scars on his face. A Dark Knight/Enchanted crossover.
1. Part 1

**Once Upon a Crime**

Giselle hadn't been to too many other places in this strange world besides New York City. She'd visited Robert's mother in a land called New Jersey, and their honeymoon was in the land of Florida even further away, where they spent magical days in vast amusement parks that reminded her so much of her life in Andalasia. But other than that, she hadn't spent much time away from her new home.

So when Robert had to take a business trip, she sat him on the couch and begged him to let her and Morgan come along.

"It'll be fun!" she said. "We won't intrude on your work at all. You'll go to your meetings and we'll go shopping and to museums and parks..."

Robert laughed, but not in the joyful way she liked. It was the way he laughed when she didn't know she was being silly. "Gotham City is no place for Morgan or you. It's very dangerous."

"Oh." She thought for a moment. "Well, you always say New York isn't a very safe place, and I've never gotten hurt."

"Much to my surprise!" he said wryly. "But Gotham is different. Gotham has Batman running around."

"A man like a bat?" She was suddenly enthralled. "Is he under a spell?" Her fingers flittered, as if sprinkling fairy dust.

"He's dressed up," Robert replied, displeased with her enthusiasm. "It was bad enough when he used to fight crime _outside of the law_," he added pointedly, "but then he went over the edge and killed some mobsters and crooked cops and the district attorney."

Giselle clapped her hands over her mouth. "Oh, no! But you said he fought crime! Why would he...?"

"A vigilante like that is bound to snap."

She didn't like that answer. "Well, it sounds odd to me. There must be more to it."

"There must?"

"It's always the way with those things," she said knowingly.

Robert shook his head. "Regardless, it's not a safe place."

"What if Morgan stayed with a friend or your mother, and just I came with you?"

"Giselle, _no_. I won't let you wander around that city."

"I'd stay in the hotel, and we'd wander together when you're not working."

"_Giselle._"

Oooh, it was coming, that anger and frustration. She still wasn't quite used to it. "Robert." She sat up straight and looked him in the eye. "I know you worry about me, but I'm not a child. I won't be sequestered to this city like a damsel locked in a tower." She shook her finger chidingly. "Believe me, no good comes from that!"

He frowned. "I'm not trying to trap you here."

"So you'll let me come?"

He hesitated, looking down at the floor. Then, taking hold of her hands, he said, "Only if you _promise_ to keep to the hotel when I'm not around."

"I promise!" she chirped and wrapped him in a hug. "See? Compromise! Was that so hard?"

And Giselle had been truthful when she made her promise. She knew plenty of ways to entertain herself-- singing, cleaning, dancing, reading-- and the hotel would have a game room and a television and a pool. She could easily make friends with other guests. She saw no reason to leave the hotel without Robert.

But when she batted a beach ball around the pool with a group of children, the ball flew over her shoulder and bounced through an open gate leading into the alley. She thought nothing of those few steps outside the hotel boundaries to retrieve it, and as she glanced down the alley she noticed someone else there. A man struggled to shove something cumbersome in a dumpster. It looked heavy, so she tossed the ball back to the children and waved goodbye.

She hurried to help the stranger. "Excuse me!" she called, and the man's head jerked up just as the last of his burden slid into the dumpster. He slammed down the lid. "Oh," Giselle said apologetically. "I thought I would help you."

And here she got a better look at his face, at his sullen eyes and the scars that swept up his cheeks from the corners of his mouth. It would be rude to stare at them, so she didn't, taking the rest of him in. His blond hair was long and messy, and he was a little too tall for the pants he was wearing. He tugged at the hem of his polo shirt with the hotel's logo on the breast. Ah, so he worked there!

"If you like," she offered eagerly, "I can let out that shirt a bit. It seems a little tight on you, if you don't mind me saying. I'd expect a nice hotel like this to provide better fitting uniforms!"

He still said nothing, regarding her with a measure of stand-offishness. For a moment she thought perhaps he didn't speak English, but then he licked his lips and said, "You must be a tourist."

"Oh, yes, I'm staying here," she said cheerfully, poking at the logo on his shirt. "It's a lovely place. You all do very good work!"

"Heh heh heh," he chuckled, smile crumpling the scars on his face. "I don't work here. I like to think of myself as, uh, self-employed."

"Oh!" Giselle wasn't sure if she should feel sad for him. "You quit?"

"Let's just say someone got an unexpected pink slip," he replied. He guffawed suddenly, banging his fist on the dumpster lid. His teeth were a terrible shade of yellow, but as he laughed, his mouth stretched wide, giddiness closing his eyes. My, he was exuberant!

"I must say," Giselle said, clasping her hands, "you have a wonderful smile!"

She didn't know why her remark set him off again, but she didn't mind. She didn't think she'd met anyone so happy outside of Andalasia! She giggled herself, head down and smiling into her hand, and that was when she noticed the dumpster dripping.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing at the growing red pool beneath a hole in the corner.

"Haha... hm?" He looked down, and he shrugged. "Oh, nothing but the effuse of the hopeless hopeful," he said, putting an arm around her shoulders and leading her out of the alley. He pulled a cap out of his back pocket and slipped it over his head, tugging the brim down low. The poor man must've been self-conscious about his scars! "What's your name, Sunshine?" he asked as they walked past the pool.

"Giselle," she replied. She swiped her room card to let them back into the hotel.

"Giselle." He snickered. "I think I prefer Sunshine."

She stopped in the hallway and folded her arms. "Perhaps it sounds strange to you," she said, unable to hide her offense, "but it's a perfectly good name." He didn't seem sorry at all, still giggling. Hmph! "Well, what's _your_ name then?"

"Oh, nothing. Anything. If anyone asks about me, just call me Jay. I'm sure they'll figure it out," he said idly. He turned and set off down the hall. "Nice dress, lady," he called over his shoulder.

Giselle watched him go with a mixture of disappointment and annoyance. What a dismissive man! Well, she just wouldn't bother saying 'thank you' then! Maybe that would make him think twice!

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Big elaborate tricks were fun. For example: hiring a few schmucks for a robbery, convincing each one to kill another for a bigger piece of the pie, until they'd all kicked the bucket leaving the whole pie for the slappy-happy clown who'd brought them together. Run-of-the-mill crooks were so greedy, it was almost too easy to pull their strings, but still glorious to watch their own irredeemable flaws take them down.

But sometimes the Joker liked to do a job alone. It was a thrill, especially walking out in the open like this, where anyone could step out of a room, see his scars, flash back to special GCN bulletins, and barricade the door to call the cops. Unless he or she was a lunkhead who needed to see him in make-up for the bell to go off.

This weekend the Gotham Continental Hotel was hosting the annual Business Leaders Organization Conference, which meant lots of rooms occupied by lots of affluent men and women, which meant lots of cash and goodies collected in one place, which meant one-stop shopping.

A posted itinerary stated that the day's luncheon began at one o'clock. The Joker got into the main elevator and stood in the corner, holding an open _Gotham Times_ in front of his face. He waited there, staring through eye holes cut in the paper, watching how many suits got off and on at each floor, listening to their conversations. Plenty of them noticed his not-so-inconspicuous cover, but no one said a word to him. They either fell into awkward silence or muttered to each other about the "weirdos" and "smartasses" employed by the hotel.

The conference attendees seemed to have been slated the eleventh floor and-- when he was alone in the elevator at one twenty-five-- that's where the Joker got off, leaving his paper behind. It was quiet; the squeak of the cleaning lady's cart was the only sound as she took the opportunity to clean up after nights of hookers and drugs, or drunken solace, depending on the kind of businessperson, Joker supposed. She didn't hear him follow her into a room. She only realized he was there when she turned to grab a spray bottle and found his grinning face a mere inch from her own.

"¡Dios mio!" she cried, eyes locked on the gouges in his cheeks.

"Hola, bonita," he replied. "¿Quieres saber como he recibido estos cicatrices?"

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

With her card key, he strolled from room to room with a pillowcase, throwing in whatever money he found stashed away or left behind in wallets, as well as watches, rings, cameras, and other shinies that would get a good price. Funds were running low, and besides his hankering for a new suit, his clowns did need to eat sometimes. It was no big plan-- those were still gestating-- but it had its perks, like imagining the looks on the business leaders' faces when they found their rooms flooding with water. Not to mention the bonus surprise when they'd rush into the bathrooms to turn off the faucets.

He'd cleaned out a wing before the hall carpet began to squish under his shoes. He checked his new Rolex. Quarter past two. They'd be done soon. Time for a swift exit! He slung the pillowcase over his shoulder and took the stairs, whistling as he descended. The cheery tune trailed off when he reached the maintenance door at the bottom and found it locked. He'd meant to slip out the back, but judging by his empty pockets, the nice young man in the dumpster didn't have a key. He rapped on the door, thinking some sucker might be nearby to open it, but a minute passed and no one came.

Oh, well. Walking out the front door wouldn't be very problematic. It was a busy hotel; he could breeze right out before anyone gave him a second glance. He headed back to the first floor, coming out of the stairwell into another hall of rooms. The wing connected to the lobby, and he didn't even stop to check the scene.

He was halfway to the revolving doors when the beveled hanging lamps flickered overhead. Employees and guests all stopped and looked up as the lights flashed sporadically. Perhaps that's what he should have done too, blended in instead of smirking and continuing on. As a moving man in a crowd of brow-furrowed statues, he caught the attention of a white-collared man with a manager tag. He took one look at the Joker, his shirt, and his stuffed pillowcase and shouted, "Hey!"

Hrm. Not the attention he needed. Two burly security guards converged on him, in the way of the front doors. How to handle this, how to handle this...

"Jay?" a voice rang.

He looked down. There at his side in one of the lobby's stuffed leather chairs sat Sunshine, all confused in her pretty little head, looking from "Jay" to the manager to the guards.

Joker grabbed her by the arm and hoisted her up. "What do you say to a walk?" he said, grinning maliciously in the manager's direction.

The hotel staff stopped in alarm, and he was about to bring out his knife to confirm their fears, but their attention was ripped away when the elevator dinged. The doors slid open and spat out two green-faced men. "Oh, God!" one shouted. "I can still smell it!"

That instant of distraction was all Joker needed. He hurtled between the two guards with Sunshine in tow and flew through the spinning doors.

Hand like a vise around her wrist, he raced down the sidewalk. She could barely keep up, but he dragged her through each stumble and ignored her protests. He shoved pedestrians aside as they passed, hearing some of them grunt in annoyance, while others got a better look at him and screamed. He ducked into an alley, knowing they wouldn't be caught. The Bat wasn't the only one who'd learned to disappear into the nooks and crannies of the city, like filthy water into a storm drain.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Giselle lost count of the alleys and side streets. When they finally stopped, she could hardly breathe. She leaned forward with her hands on her hips and took in ragged gulps of air. "What was that about?" she panted.

"Getting away," Jay replied, looking around the corner. He grabbed her arm again and pulled her across the street, out of one alley and into another. They didn't run, but his pace was still quick.

She tried not to trip over the garbage strewn around the alley. "Oh, dear. You mean you're in trouble?" She eyed the bulging sack in his hand. "Did you steal that?" she gasped.

"Steal?" he repeated. He stopped and turned to her, doe-eyed as could be. "I hardly know you, and you call me a thief!"

"Oh, I-I'm sorry, it's just, they seemed so upset and... So it's yours?"

"It's in my hand, isn't it?"

"But... they seem to want it back."

"Those thieves!" he cried. "We better hurry before they catch up!" he added, grabbing her hand again.

Giselle looked over her shoulder in the direction of the hotel, blocks and blocks away and even further with each step. "I'm flattered you think so much of our fast friendship," she said, "but I promised I would stay--"

"Aw!" he said as they emerged onto a sidewalk. They were in an entirely different neighborhood now, not as nice as the one around the hotel. The buildings were cracked and stained, even crumbled in places, but they were so close together they seemed to hold each other up. A car parked at the curb was missing its wheels, and someone slept in the back. Jay wrapped an arm around her shoulder and led her past a cluster of smoking teenagers passing around a bottle. "You'd leave me all alone?" he asked sadly. "With those fiends in pursuit?"

Well, when he put it like that, it wouldn't be very kind of her to go back to the hotel. But... "It's just that my husband asked me to stay while he goes to his meetings, and it wouldn't be very responsible--"

"Oh, but he's in meetings, you say!" Jay said. "Surely he won't miss you?"

"I'm afraid you don't understand. He doesn't find this city very safe."

"Unsafe? Gotham City?" he laughed, head thrown back. "Imagine that."

"Is it very unsafe?" she asked, looking at the harried faces they passed. It didn't seem too different from New York.

"Oh, Sunshine," Jay said, squeezing her shoulder and tweaking her cheek, "I think it's safe to say many people live out the end of their days here."

He seemed so confident that she'd be just fine, and she really didn't want to leave him alone so soon. She supposed she could stay out, for a little while. "Okay," she relented, returning his smile. "Where shall we go?"

"I need to stop off at wardrobe," he said.

"Are you an actor?" she asked, peering at his face again, as if she wouldn't have recognized him from the scars.

"Hmm..." They came to a corner, but he didn't look right, or left, only ahead, still urging her along by the shoulders. She squeaked as an oncoming car swerved around them, narrowly missing the pedestrians waiting for the light on the other side of the street. "A performer," Jay said as they stepped up onto the sidewalk again. "Some stagecraft while I'm at it. I like to give the world a show, bring them in on it when they least expect."

"Ohhh," she said, understanding. "Like a surprise?"

"Just like a surprise!"

"How fun!" she cheered. "I wouldn't mind coming along at all!"

Jay grinned. "Always nice to see people interested in the good work." He stopped, and she looked up to see that they stood in front of a sagging apartment building. "Here we are!" he announced, opening the front double doors for her. He followed her in and they headed up the dark dilapidated staircase to the third floor. To her surprise, he didn't get out a key. He shouldered in one of the doors.

"You don't lock it?" she said, glancing around the front hallway of the apartment.

He chuckled. "People around here know better. Don't stick around one place too long anyway." At the end of the short hall was a small living room, and he gestured for her to have a seat on the rumpled, sagging couch. "I'll just put on my face and slip into something more comfortable."

He vanished into a bathroom down another short hall. Giselle didn't sit. She was too taken aback by the state of the apartment. She planted her hands on her hips and took it all in, wrinkling her nose. The wallpaper peeled and was stained with watermarks. The lone area rug on the scratched, worn wood floor was mottled with holes. Behind broken blinds, the windows glowed gray through a layer of dirt. And what was that _smell?_ "Oh, no, no. This just won't do!" She went to the warped window and managed to yank it open a few inches. Crouching at the opening, she cupped her hands around her mouth and sang a few notes, voice trilling throughout the ghetto.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Joker hummed along with Sunshine's singing. He stripped down to his undershirt and polka-dotted boxers and kicked the dead man's clothes to the side. He opened the medicine cabinet over the sink. Three jars awaited him-- white, black, and red-- and he set them in the basin.

He smeared on the white first, tracing his hairline and under his chin, then filling in his face, not taking particular care around his eye sockets or lips. He haphazardly washed the excess from his fingers and did his eyes next, painting black from his eyelids to the bags beneath and his brows above. Then, last, his loving red smile messily slathered over his lips and up his scars. All the while, Sunshine sang cheerily, though he was paying more attention to the devilish gentleman in the mirror than her words.

He inspected his work. Ah, yes, no more of that man so reminiscent of the day's normal, pathetic sadsack-- just the happy dappy dapper harlequin from within. Except... He rummaged under the sink and found the brush-on hair dye. He squirted it into his hands, worked up a lather, and ran his fingers through his hair, turning it green. Ah, there he was!

Sunshine knocked on the door as he washed his hands. "Are you almost done?" she asked.

"You shoulda gone before we left," he replied.

"Oh, I'm fine. We just need to get in there next."

He froze while drying his hands on the discarded shirt. "We?"

"Take your time!" she urged.

He threw open the door. She was already back in the living room, singing again, something about cleaning, he realized. And, he also realized, the apartment was crawling with vermin: rats and pigeons and cockroaches and more. He rushed to the end of the hall and stared as the vermin moved in sync with her song. The birds worked together to draw back the curtains. The roaches swept along the far wall, leaving it less dirty as they passed. Two mangy dogs used their tails to sweep dust and dirt off the floor. A dozen rats rushed past his feet. Joker's eyes narrowed as they crowded around the door to the closet by the bathroom, or as he liked to think of it, the tomb of the apartment's late owner. The rats stacked themselves to get to the door knob.

Joker kicked over the growing tower and stomped two of the rodents. He flailed his arms and barked, chasing the rest out to the living room, where he stopped dead. The work was finished; all the filth had been swept away. Sure, it was no penthouse, but now it actually looked livable.

"A little spring cleaning was all it needed!" Sunshine said cheerfully, oblivious to the rats' panic as they disappeared into a hole in the wall.

Joker stared suspiciously at the lemon-fresh room, at a ruffled pigeon hopping around with a dust rag, at Sunshine's somehow spotless robin's egg-colored dress.

She finally noticed his lack of excitement and giggled embarrassedly behind her hands. She glanced around at her frolicking friends. "This probably seems a little odd to you, that I can talk to animals." He still didn't react, and she clapped her hands, signaling for all the creatures to clear out. She turned back to him, looking hopeful that their absence would improve his mood. "But it's not so strange where I come from."

And with still not a word from him, she went on and on about her Andalasia, some bright, shiny, faraway land of charming princes and glittering castles, enormous trolls and enchanted forests, rampaging dragons and quaint villages. Every stroll was a dance and every conversation was a song, and every ending was happy.

This broad was getting a little too out there, even for him. Someone of her skill set attracted a lot of attention, something he only wanted when he called for it, and only for himself, thank you very much. He didn't need his tagalong chit-chatting with squirrels while he tried to move surreptitiously through town. As entertaining as he found her, now that he no longer needed a hostage, Sunshine was quite the liability. But did he really want to off her now?

She finally stopped talking, and she peered at his face. She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket. "Oh, my," she said as she wiped around his lips. "You got a little out of the lines here..."

Yes. Yes, he did.

He pushed her hand away. "So you like fairytales."

She seemed to think it an odd question, but she nodded. "Oh, yes, they're my life."

He smiled and took a step forward. "Do you want to know how I got these scars?"

She bit her lip. "Yes?"

He smiled wider. "Once upon a time, there was a small boy who lived in a teeny village with his little sister, their father, and their old blind grandmother." Another step forward, and Sunshine took a step back. "The village was besieged by a dragon who left their land barren, very difficult to grow crops on. So they have very little to eat, if anything. No one is strong enough or brave enough to slay the dragon. But the father thinks the boy will one day, and he trains his son hard, until the boy bleeds."

Joker sighed regretfully and reached into his pocket. "But he's still a boy, and there's still no food, and he tells his father he'll never be strong enough. And his father doesn't like that, the loser's attitude, the coward's attitude. The boy is afraid, but his father says okay, if the boy works hard, he will get more food."

He snapped open the pocket knife in a flash of silver and grabbed Sunshine's shoulder, holding her to the wall. "When the boy is done training that day, he comes home to find gen-u-ine meat on the table. His father says it's all for him, and the boy is more than happy to eat it up. It's delicious: thick, roasted, juicy. He hasn't eaten like this in years, and when the last of it is gone, he thanks his father over and over. But his father tells him to thank his sister. The boy doesn't see her. His father points to the empty, greasy platter."

He brought the blade oh-so-close to her skin, almost caressing her cheek. "And oh, the boy is horrified, yes, he's pale and he can't breathe, but the grandmother who did all that chopping and hacking and slicing, she's... oh, she's a mess. And she grabs her grandson and tells him to tell her it's not true, that's it's all right, tells him to laugh and say it's just a joke. Smile, smile, she says, grabbing his face, feeling his mouth, and when she can't find that smile, she grabs her knife, and..."


	2. Part 2

Giselle's eyes were wide, and she didn't move as the tip of blade skirted the corner of her mouth. He angled it _just so_ to slip it inside-- and she grabbed his wrists. She held them tightly and buried her face in his chest. "Oh, that's so sad!" she wailed. "What a horrible, awful father!"

"Er, yes, but..." Joker tried in vain to free his arms.

"You poor, poor man!" she wept, grip like iron. "Do you need a moment?" She pulled him toward the couch. "Come, come here, sit. Just let it all out!"

This was just too much, just too good to be true. It was like a gift from Jesus, if Jesus had taken to rewarding very naughty boys. Her naivete, her _goodness_, it was just so remarkable, so irreplaceable. Oh, yes, there were better plans to be had for her. He couldn't kill her.

Besides, he was still in his underclothes. That would just be undignified.

He shook off her arm and sighed dramatically. "Oh, you really are so kind to me!"

"Who could be mean to you?" she said, wiping away her tears.

"Oh, the world!" he replied, crossing his arms over his chest, where society had clearly wounded him. "The world, my dear! And that's why I do what I do."

"Your surprises!" she recalled excitedly, mood already slipping back to cheer. "I can't wait!"

"Well, I only have to dress in my best and then we'll be off!" he said, tweaking her cheek.

"Ooh!" She reached over to the couch and held up two hangers: one with his shirt, vest, and jacket, and the other with his pants. "We pressed them for you!"

"... Of course you did."

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

When it came to his goons, the Joker was known for recruiting patients of Arkham Asylum, whether they were escaped or on leave. As obedient and enthusiastic as those men could be, however, they couldn't always be trusted with anything too complicated, or in matters of administrative responsibility when their quirky boss was indisposed.

And so the Joker did in fact have three henchmen from the duller factions of city crime, men looking for work now that the mob's influence had been marginalized. Sure, they were less about the message and more about the money, but they proved to have their uses.

"I don't get it. Why _don't_ we really hold her for ransom?"

They also proved to have a lack of imagination.

Joker smiled sweetly, and the crony shrank back. "Bob, why don't you go fetch our special packages upstairs?"

"Yessir," Bob said immediately, retreating through a narrow, rickety door.

Joker watched him go, and his eyes caught the GCN caption on the muted TV. "Ooh, turn it up! Up!"

Carl fiddled with the remote and the sound returned. The oh-so-serious anchorwoman handed camera time over to an on-site reporter, Suzi Jackson.

"Thank you, Joyce," Suzi said. "Today at the Gotham Continental Hotel, business men and women thought they were only victims of robbery with a side of vandalism when they returned from a luncheon to find their belongings ransacked and their bathroom faucets flooding their rooms. But that wasn't all."

The screen switched to a previously recorded statement by a police officer. "Seeing that the water was coming from their bathrooms," he said, "the victims went to shut off their faucets, unaware that the doors were rigged so that when opened, an electric shaver or hair dryer would be dropped into the sink or tub. The devices were already turned on, and with the water everywhere..." He paused, eyes falling downward. "We have two people in critical care, but unfortunately seven others did not make it."

Back to Suzi, brushing her hair from her face. "Witnesses in the lobby say that a man with a scarred face fled the premises with a guest as a hostage. When asked to confirm if this vicious act was the work of the criminal known as the Joker, who recently escaped Arkham Asylum, police would give no comment."

Joker giggled and clapped his hands. "That's what I call a rave review, boys!"

Carl and Dave smiled and laughed nervously, until a scream from upstairs struck them silent.

Joker raised his head at the noise, then slapped his palm to his forehead. "Oh, right! Forgot about the booby trap." He shrugged. "Oh, well. Should be safe for you, Carl."

Carl exchanged a look with Dave, as if he doubted that, but went upstairs anyway.

"Is she gonna help with the plan, Boss?" Dave asked.

"Who?" Joker muttered, still staring at the TV. But GCN had moved on to some other story about failing schools and he tore his eyes away.

"Uh, that woman you brought with you?"

"HA!" Joker moved to the table in the center of the office and looked over a map of the city. "Trust me, Davey, Sunshine doesn't have the stomach for our act. Not now, anyway, but we don't have the time to convert her thinking."

Dave chuckled. "Yeah, can't imagine a sweet thing like her joining up."

Joker tapped his fingers onto the table, grin spreading. "No. No, you can't, can you..."

Dave stiffened in alarm at his employer's devious expression. Carl returned, a little green in the face and carrying a brown paper shopping bag.

"I think she can help us after all," the Joker said, turning to the door that led downstairs instead of up.

He burst out of the office and slid down the rusty metal banister to the warehouse's ground floor. "Sunshine!" he trilled. He didn't pause when his feet hit the floor and ignored the clatter as the banister broke from the stairs. He approached his guest with open arms. "I have a very--"

He cut himself off. Sunshine sat atop of a small pile of crates, and his masked henchmen were gathered around her. They sat hugging their knees, or laid on their stomachs kicking their legs in the air, or were otherwise sprawled about like the Lost Boys enrapt with Wendy. Sunshine gestured emphatically with her hands.

"And then," she said with exaggerated shock, "Baby Bear said, 'Look, Mama, someone's been sleeping in _my_ bed, and _she's still there!_ And that's when Goldilocks awoke, saw the three bears, leaped up, and ran straight out of the house!" Sunshine's enthusiasm fell, and she wrung her hands in her lap. "Oh, I do wish she would get help. We tried an intervention once. It was simply awful."

The cloying clowns aww'd in sympathy. One reached up from the floor to hold her hand in comfort.

"AHEM," Joker coughed subtly. The men looked up all at once, and they scattered like cockroaches.

Sunshine was nonplussed. "Your friends are very sweet!" she said, slipping off the crates. "I'd love to tell them more stories."

"Heh, they have their own fairy tales," Joker replied as a man in the corner argued with a sock. "And wouldn't you rather help me do something _really_ special?"

"Oh?" she replied, looking excited to finally help.

"I consider myself something of a philanthropist," he said, "leaving little gifts for the people here and there. They're usually a big, heh, _hit_." Here, he frowned, looking back up at her with the biggest eyes he could muster. "But I must get my friends to leave those gifts, since no one easily trusts the, ah, disfigured."

"How awful!" She reached for his hands to comfort him, but he grabbed her shoulders.

"But you," he said, "who could think ill of such a pretty, bright li'l thing like you?"

"Oh, that's very nice of you! I'm not sure _I_ would trust me right off, though. Mind you, they are the minority, but I know of a few evil stepmothers who were very--"

"_My point being_," Joker interrupted, "I would like you to be one of those happy helpers!"

Sunshine bounced with excitement. "Oh, I just love to give people presents!"

"I thought you would," Joker said, cuffing her lightly on the chin. Okay, maybe not that lightly, but she seemed to take it as an innocent misjudgment. He snapped his fingers and Carl came forward with the bag. Inside were three packages wrapped in green paper and tied with purple bows.

"How festive!" Giselle commented.

As she took the bag, Joker handed her a piece of paper as well. "This map has three addresses marked on it. Go to each one and make your way inside. You'll need to hide each package very well; finding it is all part of the fun."

She nodded as she looked over the map, but said, "I'm not sure I'll be allowed to get far into these places."

He chuckled. "Pish, posh! Use that charm of yours! But don't tell them why you're there, of course. It'll ruin the surprise."

She nodded again, more vigorously. "But won't anyone be coming with me?"

"Oh, I'm sure you can find your way. My associates and I will be busy. It'll be quite a bit of trouble getting in contact with a good friend of mine before tonight."

"What's happening tonight?" she asked curiously.

"Another surprise!" he said, waving his fingers in an arc. The magical gesture seemed to make her understand. "You'll love it." He waved his goons on toward the doors. "Meet me at the starred address at seven-thirty. Don't be late!"

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Joker spent the next few hours with his goons planting clues around the city for the Batman, to lead the winged rat to the right spot for the finale as night fell. Some people might call those clues "bombs" or "booby traps" or "omigodomigodomigod," but the Joker was never really a fan of playing semantics.

The first building to go was a Wayne Enterprises distribution center at the edge of the city, and the second was a construction company nearby. The third was a Papaya Computers shop uptown. Simple math: the answer was a construction site, an expansion of Wayne Enterprises' computer division downtown. An easy equation, but challenging the Bat wasn't the point. The point was that someone would call each site with a bomb threat. The point was that when the bombs went off in the evacuated buildings, no one would be hurt. The point was to guarantee that the Joker would make up for that later. The Bat would come running.

Dave had the _brilliant_ idea of foregoing the finale, of hanging around the detonation sites and tracking any suspicious person investigating in the daylight. They could get the drop on the Bat when there were no shadows to hide in. Joker shoved Dave off the side of an overpass. Some people were just no fun to play with.

The construction site was a tall half-finished extension to a stouter building next door. There were no walls, just a series of concrete floors run through with support beams, with an exposed staircase the only way to the roof. Joker instructed his goons to station themselves on each floor, to get the Bat a little winded as he fought his way up. Joker didn't expect much from them-- they were just pawns in the game. No, wait, more like Candyland pieces. Much more colorful.

Joker waited on the roof, looking out over the city, picturing the imminent pyrotechnics display. Roars of oranges, reds, and yellows taking out the night, and then the swelling chorus of screams and sirens. That would all be followed by the Bat's percussion solo on his body, of course, unless the lug had to catch that wailing soprano as she threw herself off the building in horror at what she'd done.

Speaking of whom, here came Sunshine up the ladder, humming happily, taking care not to step on her dress in her heels. She offered her usual delighted smile as she crawled onto the roof and pushed herself to her feet.

"This is a strange place to meet someone," she said, squinting up at the single spotlight set up by his goons.

"It has a privacy I enjoy," he replied.

"And a lovely view!" she admitted, looking around them. She stepped to the edge of the roof to gaze at the skyline. She sighed, stretching out her arms. "To be a bird..."

Oh, she was just asking for it now. The tips of her shoes stuck out over the edge just so, her eyes closed and her head tipped back as the breeze caressed her face, and her hair and dress fluttered behind her. A simple prod in the back and she'd hurtle to the street. Or he could just snatch up those locks in one hand and that skirt in the other, and throw her over the side like she was excess cargo on a leaking ship. More effort was more satisfaction, after all.

Part of him grumbled that he did go to all kinds of trouble to show her and the Bat the price of naiveté. But another part of him, opportunistic and salivating at the picture she presented, didn't have much trouble overruling his plans. He crept up behind her, and her scream already sang in his ears.

Her eyes slammed open. "Just look at that!" she exclaimed, reaching back and grabbing his lapel. She pulled him to join her on the edge as her other arm swept over Gotham, presenting it to him. "How could anyone be afraid of such a gorgeous place?" she sighed.

"Can't imagine," he grunted, trying to regain his balance before he pitched down to the street. "Could you, uh, ease up a tad?"

"No," replied a gravelly voice.

From the floor below, the Bat swung up over the edge of the roof, his feet slamming solidly into Joker's chest. The clown tumbled back, rolling across the concrete, and he heard the soft thud of Sunshine falling too, probably far more daintily.

Joker felt his body come to a stop, and as the Bat approached he ignored the whirling sensation in his head and got to his feet. "Stylish entrance," he grunted, brushing off his suit.

"What's the game this time?" Batman growled.

"Can't I just want to see you, Batsy?" Joker replied sadly, twirling a scraggly piece of hair around his finger.

"Ooh!" Sunshine gasped from the ground. "Batman?"

The Bat's eyes flickered to her. Joker could tell he wasn't sure what to make of her inappropriate bubbliness and frilly dress. Then again, it was hard to imagine there were many people who did.

"Sunshine, this is the Dark Knight," he introduced as she got to her feet. "Bats, this is Sunshine."

"Well, it's Giselle, actually," she said. Joker giggled as she curtsied, but if she noticed she ignored it. "It's lovely to meet you. I've never met a knight here before!" She looked around curiously. "Do you have a horse?"

Batman focused on the Joker again. "A female accomplice is a change."

"Accomplice?" Joker replied. "Oh, she's not one of mine. Not really."

"I was a just a helper for today!" Sunshine chimed in.

"Indeed she was!" Joker laughed. "See, I met Sunshine here on one of my exploits, and I couldn't help but be taken in by her sweetness, her enthusiasm, her _goodness_, you know." Ah, there it was, in the Bat's eyes. He was catching on to just how oblivious this woman was.

"You're very sweet," Sunshine said bashfully, confirming it.

"So I thought, wouldn't it be nice to let someone so giving and helpful help _me_?" he said, baring his teeth in a proud, malicious grin.

Batman reached out to Sunshine. "Miss, what did he have you do?" he asked quickly.

She looked taken aback by the urgency in his voice. "I just dropped off some gifts, that's all," she said, twisting her hands together.

"Where? _Where?_"

"The school, the orphanage, the clinic," she replied, ticking off her fingers.

"It's too late, Batsy," Joker said. "You won't make it in time."

"Oh, did you want to leave a gift too?" Sunshine said apologetically. "Well, I left plenty, so don't feel too bad."

Joker cackled. "Yes, turn that frown upside..." Wait. "Plenty?" he repeated.

Sunshine played with her hair and averted her eyes sheepishly. "Oh, well, when you left I looked at the packages and I thought they seemed awfully small for a _whole_ school and a _whole_ orphanage and a _whole_ clinic. So I decided I should complement your gifts with some of my own!"

Oh, well, that was fine. So long as--

"But I left your packages at that warehouse and I forgot to go back and get them after I finished shopping."

The clock tower chimed the hour. There was a single explosion, far away, and Joker didn't have to turn around to know it was from the warehouse district.

Sunshine stared over his shoulder with wide eyes. "Oh, my, there's a fire over there!"

Joker found himself unable to move, plainly stunned. It was easy to _perplex_ him, sure, but this woman, this girlish nit, somehow her complete obliviousness has managed to undo his worst intentions. How was this possible?

Slight movement on his right. The Batman. His shoulders shaking. _Laughing_.

"Let's hope no one was hurt!" Sunshine said.

Joker lunged for her, yearning to crush his fingers into her throat, but the Bat lunged too, forcing him down to the ground. They grappled, the Bat straddling him and trying to keep him down, and Joker jammed two fingers into the eyeholes of his mask. Batman jerked his head back and Joker threw his fist at the Bat's mouth. Batman responded by grabbing his hair and slamming his head into the ground.

"What are you doing?" Sunshine shrieked. "Stop it! Stop it!"

"Stay back!" Batman warned her. The Joker grabbed a knife from his pocket and aimed to sheath it between the Bat's armor plates. Batman grabbed his hand just in time and they struggled over the blade.

"That's _funny_," Batman said through gritted teeth. "You don't seem to be enjoying this."

"There's a time for play and a time for work," Joker hissed.

Batman didn't have a verbal comeback for that. He just smashed their foreheads together, and Joker's grip on the knife faltered. The hero grabbed it away and tossed it over the side of the building.

The Joker watched it go and pouted. "That was my favorite, you know."

"Never cared for it," Batman replied, drawing his fist back.

Before he could throw the punch, he was tackled by a blur of red and blue. The Bat fell back with Sunshine on top of him, and Joker scrambled to his feet. It didn't take Batman long to do the same, but Sunshine was between them before they could go at each other again.

"I don't understand!" she cried, practically in tears. "Why are you fighting?"

Joker counted his teeth with his tongue. All accounted for. "That's what enemies do, Sunshine."

"E-enemies?!" she exclaimed, hands to her cheeks in horror. "Oh, no! But how? Why?"

"Do you have any idea what is going on here?" Bats asked, at a completely obvious loss.

"I know that you two need to settle your differences like adults!" she chided, shaking her finger at him.

"He's a monster!" Batman growled.

"What?" Sunshine said incredulously. "It is really so difficult for you two to get along?"

Joker could see the emphatic "YES" about to burst from Batman's scowling lips, but the girl continued, voice strangely lilting.

"Oh, I know he seems so brash," she said to the Joker. Then she turned to Batman, gesturing to the clown. "And his looks can be a fright..."

It was almost as if...

"... but I know if you take the time, you both will see the light!"

Oh, no.

Sunshine grasped their hands tightly. "Take a chance! Open up your miiiiiind," she sang. "Once you do, that's when you may fiiiiiind..."

The priceless look on Batman's face communicated only one thought: _What the fuck._

"That you have a friend!" Sunshine chirped, abruptly joining the clown's and the bat's hands. "Yes, you have a friend!" She twirled as Batman jerked his hand away. "Someone to spend the day with, / laugh and play with, / ev'ryday with joy / 'cause you have a friend." She nodded affirmatively, looking to each of them. "Yes, it's time to mend / ev'ry distrustful thought. / Emotional drought / just leaves you fraught / with coldness."

With a surprising surge of strength, Sunshine pulled them off the side of the building. Instead of falling to their deaths, they landed on a platform suspended by a crane on the ground. Sunshine landed lightly, as if she'd performed a simple grand jete. Joker and the Bat hit the platform heavily, fighting for balance, and then the crane started to move. Joker grabbed onto one of the chains holding the platform; Batsy only had to crouch. The soprano was unaffected, standing as if she were merely enjoying a grassy field. The platform began to lower, passing each of the building's unfinished floors.

Sunshine clasped her hands together. "And oh!"

"Ohh, ohhhh," groaned Bat-battered henchman hanging off the sides of each floor the platform passed.

"Although the night is lovely / as the stars..."

"The stars," the clowns echoed wearily again.

"Shine o'er you and he, / when the sun..."

"The sun."

"Rises above the city..." She threw out her arms and looked up as if the sun blazed overhead. "Feel in its heat, / truth you can't beat! / Life is better when everyone's your..."

She paused, as if Batman and the Joker would join in. They did not.

"Friend!" she continued as the platform touched down on the ground. She pulled the two men into the street, where a crowd of pedestrians had gathered to gawk. "You'll see in the end-- "

She was interrupted by the Gothamites, who inexplicably broke out coordinated dance moves and chorused: "That ill will and heartache / can only make / spirit and faith break, / so it's time to tend!"

"To your friend!" Sunshine sang, joining the crowd to lead the dance. "Your future friend. / Let's be friends. / Ev'ry one friends!"

The whole ensemble threw up their hands in a resounding "YEAH!" Each citizen's smile reflected Sunshine's cheer and her confidence that her song had got her message through.

Batman and the Joker were silent. For long seconds they switched from exchanging glances to staring at the crowd. Finally, Batman turned to his adversary. "Okay," he said. "I'm leaving."

"What?" Joker guffawed. "As if you would ever just leave little ol' me to--"

"No," Batman rasped. "It's done. Over. Finito. Die ende. I can say it in a few dozen other languages if you really want to hear it."

"B-but..." Joker sputtered.

The Bat shot off his grappling hook. A far-off clank affirmed that it snagged a hold. "I'm out."

And with the press of a button the retracting line yanked him away. Gone. Just like that, into the night. Not even giving Joker a chance for a whimsically witty retort.

Sunshine skipped to the clown's side, cooing at his downstruck expression. "He just needs time to think it over."

But Joker didn't need any time as she turned away to thank her ensemble. His fingers twitched, curling and uncurling into fists. One hand slipped into his pocket, grasping a spare knife. The Gothamites saw him raise the blade and as his eyes assessed where best to jab it, they scattered. Sunshine cocked her head in confusion, watching them run this way and that, still so stupidly unsuspecting of the man behind her. He held the knife over his head, ready to bury it in her back.

A sudden pain sparked in the side of his neck. His fumbling fingers found a small cylinder stuck there, and he jerked it out. He stared down at his palm as a haze began to fall. It was a tranquilizer, the kind favored at Arkham. Ooh, a purple-striped one this time. How thoughtful.

A pleasant wooziness hit him. He knew there wasn't much time, and he lurched forward, waving his knife back and forth, its tip almost catching Sunshine's hair before hands grabbed his arms. Those humorless fellas in the white uniforms had come at him from the sides. Normally he'd eviscerate them, but his treacherous arms had decided to emulate the strength of jello. The men took his knife away.

He heard a delightfully horrified scream, and he smiled, wondering what he had done. Then Sunshine's face hovered over his, and he realized he was on his back. Leather straps quickly wrapped around his torso and limbs. Arkham's cronies had him on a gurney. He was going home. He wondered if he'd missed dinner.

"What's going on?!" Sunshine cried, oh-so-distraught. "Where are you taking him?"

"Miss," said one baffled orderly, "I don't know what you're doing with this man, but he's very sick."

"Sick?" she repeated.

He finally saw that light in her eyes, the realization. The day ran through her mind, and all the signals and signs lit up at once. Joker contentedly waited for the horror what she had almost done to wrench from her throat.

"Oh..." she gasped. "So the gifts," she said tearfully to Arkham's men. "They... That's why he..."

Joker stared at her delicious brimming tears. _Yes, _yes_, break like a china doll._ This made the whole wasted day worth it.

"He dragged himself out of the hospital to give the world wonderful gifts before he dies?" she sobbed. "Oh, Jay, why didn't you tell me?" she cried.

What.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Giselle had known he was a good man, but never had it occurred to her that he was unwell! Jay was so vibrant, so full of life. "You shouldn't have left the hospital!" she told him. "They're there to help you! I know you have a lot of love to give, but what good is it if you're gone?"

"Miss," one of the hospital men said, "please step back. We need to load him in."

"Oh, but I..." She looked upon her poor friend, strapped down, his eyes locked on her. His expression was hard to read, but she knew. She knew he was hiding his pain. "But couldn't I stay with him?" she asked. "He's all alone."

"Um, that's against procedure, miss," the hospital man said. "If you want to see him, you'll have to discuss it with his doctors."

"Oh, but I... There's no time..." She and Robert were leaving the next morning. She fretted and sighed. "Oh, Jay, I hate that this is how I'll last see you. And there's so much to say, but I'm not sure how..." She sniffled and smiled a little, smearing make-up from his temple and kissing him there. His arms twitched under the straps and she laughed sadly. "You only need to ask if you want a hug!" she exclaimed, wiping away tears. She leaned down to embrace him, but one of the hospital men grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back.

She was about to give him a good talking to, but Jay mumbled something, his lips barely moving.

"What?" Giselle said, leaning closer. The same man reached for her again and she swatted him with an annoyed tsking. "How can you be so callous to a dying man?!"

"Miss, he's not dying."

Her face fell into a blank surprise. "He isn't?"

Jay mumbled again, a bit louder, but still unintelligible.

"Yes?" she said, holding one of his restrained arms affectionately and tilting her head.

Jay strained to lift his head, marred lips working slowly. "D... d.... diiiiieeeeee," he groaned, and his head smacked back to the stretcher.

Giselle blinked. "But he just said you'll be fine," she said as the men finally loaded him into the van. "Wait, I..." Oh, time was too short. "Good-bye, Jay!" she called as two of the men hopped into the back with him and pulled the doors closed. The two others got into the front, and she sadly watched the van drive off.

She'd made so many friends, but it was never easy saying goodbye, especially not in a situation like this! But she did feel better knowing that one day he would get better, and he would be out again, spreading his joy through the city he loved. And the Batman would be out there with him!

The van passed a nearby bank with an electronic sign displaying the temperature and time. "Oh, no!" Giselle gasped. She hadn't realized how late she was; Robert was surely worried, and he would no doubt be upset with her. But she knew once she explained everything, he would understand.

After all, what was wrong with adding sunshine to a stranger's day?


End file.
